


Lullaby

by LadyCookieCupcake



Series: Life with the F.A.C.E. Family (Mother!Reader Insert) [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: America and England are mentioned but only briefly, F/M, Father France, France sings a lullaby to an annoyed Reader, Gen, Other, Pregnant Reader, Prompt - Pain, Reader is pregnant with Canada, mother reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 13:53:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7576438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyCookieCupcake/pseuds/LadyCookieCupcake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Reader is having contractions, and reluctantly phones Francis for help. He decides to sing... Reader is not amused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lullaby

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Hetalia nor it's character, nor do I own you. I own this story though, so please don't steal it!  
> Also, posted on my other accounts. So far, only DeviantArt.

You had been told it could be different, the volume of pain these nasty things called contractions were. 'It all depends on the strength of your contractions,' the midwife had tried to reassure, even adding a tiny smile at the end of it, but your fierce glare quickly shut her up. It was obvious this birth was going to be more painful than Alfred's, because taking in what the midwife had said, you realised your contractions were stronger - a lot stronger.  
  
Still, this- this you couldn't take. Every time a contraction came, every part of you seemed to clench painfully until there was nothing but that blinding agony. You wanted to scream, to cry and faint. Your body felt as if it were trying to split in half and yet something was refusing to let it; you half wished it'd go away, just let your body split to end this agonising pain. However, you also wished you hadn't sent Francis away.  
  
It's not like you had expected this to happen; your last ultrasound had been a mere three days ago, and nothing had indicated an early birth. In fact, the doctor herself had said you could expect a healthy birth in three weeks, so when you sent your now-ex boyfriend away, you had done so with the full intention of sitting down and watching reruns of whatever episode was on, a big bowl of ice cream and fish fingers in your lap to slob out on.  
  
You had not intended for an extremely early birth of your youngest. Trust, you wouldn't have sent him away if you had known. In fact, you would have clenched onto him so tightly he wouldn't have been able to budge even the slightest. Suddenly, you felt everything tighten, and you had to bite down hard on your lip to prevent the scream, eventually drawing blood.  
  
Ignoring the iron taste though, you tried to breathe through your nose throughout all of it, and soon - though not soon enough - it was over. Your muscles relaxed instantly, everything going slack against the wall. You panted, face pale and shiny from sweat, and as you blinked sluggishly, wishing yet again you hadn't sent the Frenchman away, you thought, _I am so killing Francis for this._  
  
 *****  
  
Francis hadn't left when he had been thrown out of the house. Instead he had huffed quite unprofessionally (but assured himself nobody had heard his none-to-fabulous huff), and walked straight to his car, unlocking it and getting inside. This had happened quite often near his and (Y/N)'s break up, and now it was the only thing that happened. Whenever Francis would try and talk to her, (Y/N) would just scream at him to go away and slam the door in his face (on the rare times she even opened the door, of course). They never really spoke, and then this morning, Francis gets a call from the exact same person who's been avoiding him, saying she needed company and instantly he had ran over.  
  
They'd spent exactly three and a half hours watching TV and eating ice cream before he had said something, and then (Y/N)'s pregnancy hormones had kicked in, forcing her to kick him out. Now, he sat in his car, waiting for the moment she called him back because he had seen the look in her eyes, had seen the look of sadness and guilt and realised she was still lonely. She was just also angry and emotional.  
  
The Frenchman sighed as he leaned his back against the headrest, eyes slightly drooping in boredom. He realised he could just leave, he realised how weird this looked to anyone else, but he couldn't. Even though he admitted breaking up was for the better, Francis still cared about (Y/N) and the baby inside of her. He viewed her as a great friend, and he would always care about her, despite their negative moments.  
  
Francis huffed as he could feel the sweat drip down his forehead. It was twenty-three degrees, which wasn't a lot compared to what he was used to, but the air was humid and sticky, which meant sweat was all too common. He lifted a hand to press the window button down, when a vibrate suddenly shook his leg a little. Startled, he looked down towards his leg, stared at it for a couple of seconds and then pulled it out, realising that yes, maybe he should answer it.  
  
Pulling the phone to his ear, Francis hit the green button and said, "Hello?" A rough growl echoed in his ear, and he refused to admit the squeal he gave. "Come back or I swear to god-." He quickly pulled the phone away, not really wanting to hear what she had to say, and quickly got out of the car, slamming the door shut and locking it. "Oi! You still there?" (Y/N) shouted through the phone, and Francis huffed, hesitantly bringing the phone an inch from his ear and said, "Yes. I am in front of the door. Could you open it?" She huffed and mumbled something, to which Francis asked if she could repeat herself. She did, shouting down his ear. "NO! I said, no! I can't! I'm in pain and complete agony and I'm scared and- and..." Her voice trailed off until all he could hear was light sobbing, the volume gaining with each ragged intake of breath.  
  
Francis felt panic well up in him as his mind conjured images of (Y/N) laying at the bottom of the stairs, having fallen down them, or leaning against the wall, in pain from having hurt herself somehow. He quickly shook the images out of his head, and shoved his hand into his jacket pocket, filling around until he felt the keys. Quickly shoving the right key into the keyhole, he threw open the door as soon as he could and ran in- only to be faced with the exact image his mind had conjured up, (Y/N) leaning against the wall in the hallway as she clenched her eyes in apparent pain, one hand placed on the floor as the other was splayed across her bulging stomach.  
  
(Y/N)'s eyes snapped open to reveal blazing (E/N), pointed directly at the Frenchman. Francis gulped before running over to his pregnant ex-girlfriend. "W-What happened?" Francis asked, and then instantly regretted it when the hand once placed on her stomach shot upwards to grab the collar of his shirt, dragging him down to face level. "Really? What's it look like I'm doing?" He gulped again and nodded quickly, eager to have her let go, which she eventually does.  
  
"Just call an ambulance, please." Her voice took on a begging tone as she placed a hand on her stomach again, and her face scrunched up again. He nodded once more and pulled his phone out, dialing the number and asking for an ambulance. As he did so, he sat down beside her, letting her lean her head against his shoulder, her panting breath lightly fanning his cheek as she tried to calm her nerves. She whined loudly as another contraction hit her, and Francis gently whispered soothing words to her, one hand brought up to her hair to run through it.  
  
Francis felt completely helpless. (Y/N) was so close to pushing and the ambulance had only just been called; Francis was afraid it wouldn't be here soon enough. Add that with the fact that she was early and... Francis clenched his jaw tightly, eyes closing shut for a second as he took a deep breath in. He knew panicking wouldn't help anything; in fact, it'll only make things worse. So, to calm both himself and (Y/N) down, he did the first thing he could think of - gently sing one of his favourite French lullabies, 'Fais Dodo'.  
  
Leaning his cheek against her hair, he opened his mouth and began, "Fais dodo, Colas mon p'tit frère. Fais dodo, t'auras du lolo. Maman est en haut, qui fait du gâteau. Papa est en bas, qui fait du chocolat." He gently repeated the song verse over and over again, and every time a contraction came, he would sing just a little louder to try and help her ignore the pain. After the fourth repeat, (Y/N) could not help but ask, "Are you really singing me a French lullaby about a sister singing to her brother because he won't stop crying for milk?" He froze before slowly nodding, but instead of shouting, he got a sigh and one nod. "Thank you." She muttered before another contraction hit.  
  
Francis smiled and moved to lean down to kiss her, only to stop himself. He blushed, and to distract himself, the Frenchman carried on singing, clenching tight of her hand and singing a little louder whenever a contraction came. Of course it never took away the pain of the actual pushing, but the song helped for the time before and after. Francis was glad he could help at least a little, (and seeing his son, Matthew made it all the more better.)


End file.
